


blacks don't say goodbye

by jelenaRusso



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Brothers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Female Sirius Black, Genderbent Sirius, Guilt, Kissing, Running Away, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:08:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29169339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jelenaRusso/pseuds/jelenaRusso
Summary: Aquila Black, who would probably be disowned come morning, took one last look at the house she'd been born into, and turned away, to something better, to something new.(fem!Sirius, the day she ran away to the Potters, James/ fem!Sirus)
Relationships: Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Sirius Black/James Potter
Kudos: 28





	blacks don't say goodbye

It was raining.

She shivered slightly, trying to cast an _impervious_ , but her hand was shaking badly. Raindrops fell down her cheeks and she stared at the dark house, blood racing, adrenalin pumping. Tonight was her last time she was going to stand any of their pureblood bullshit. Tonight was a beginning, away from the stifling pureblood society and norms she hated. She pulled her cloak tighter and tried not to think of Regulus's pale face, shouting, screaming. She tried not to think of the inevitable scorch mark on the family tapestry. At the very least, her parents didn't know yet. Reg might tip them off, but Merlin, she couldn't care less. She was out of that ruddy, godforsaken home, and she was running away to a new life.

Aquila Black, who would probably be disowned come morning, took one last look at the house she'd been born into, and turned away, to something better, to something new.

* * *

She could hear her brother's voice in her head, ('How dare you, Aquila-; please, don't; stay here;') but those were false promises. Bellatrix and Narcissa had probably said the same to Andromeda, but would they have let her live her life, when she'd so silently rebelled against them? No, thought, Aquila. The home was toxic, she said, but it wasn't. She had a brother, who might be a Slytherin and their pureblood prince but he was still her brother. He was still the boy she knew from birth, her partner in crime for childhood. The only boy in a generation of girls. She had cousins- who despite their death eater affiliations were still her cousins. They had lived like sisters – once.

(But she couldn't be a Black, she was a Gryffindor and what they were harbouring in that house, that was dark. They could hide it in social parties, and death beautiful looks, and deceptive eyes. They could walk with their heads held high, and talk in cold voices and hide the streaks of insanity that ran through the blood in their veins, but all this beauty, all this deception was built on centuries of incest and blood and ostracization. This was an insanity passed from generations, and Aquila was Black both sides. Yet, she was running away. They might stand her barely for now but soon enough, she would be forced into some relationship or the other, and she couldn't, couldn't stand by it. They were wrong and Aquila was going somewhere _right_.)

* * *

James was her best mate and that was where she went. He might have even anticipated this; she was sixteen; it had barely been a matter of time before she was of age. She was slightly unsure when she knocked but it was one look at James tousled head of hair and wide, welcoming grin and she threw herself into his arms. His parents were asleep, he said, and he would inform them tomorrow about her running away, he winked, and then helped her drag her trunk into the guest room, which was bright and free of snide portraits. She stood there in the dark, shifting on the balls of her feet, trying not to think of Reg's pale face, he had begged her to not go…

Aquila shifted towards James, burying her head in his neck. She had never felt as grateful to him as she had in that moment.

'Thank you,' she whispered, feeling suddenly vulnerable.

'Hey,' he said, slightly chiding. He put his arms around her. 'It's okay. You're out of it now.'

She looked into the hazel of his eyes. He didn't blink.

Aquila kissed him on the lips. He tasted warm and spice, and she pushed him against the wall, her lips pressing against his desperately. Her fingers twirled at his collar and now James was kissing her back, arm hooking at the pin on her cloak, which Aquila shrugged off. She bit his lip hard as his hands laced her waist gently. James was going soft, comforting. She didn't want gentle, she wanted rough, fast, to clutch her hard enough to leave a bruise, a mark.

She wanted a drink, something that would burn her throat, remind her she wasn't ashes yet.

His breath was warm and she pressed his body against the wall harder, clutching him tight. Her black hair rippled down her shoulder as she pressed into his chest, her lips tracing his neck, James' hand in her hair. Aquila was halfway through removing her shirt, when he tried to stop her.

'Not now, Aquila.'

'Why not? I want it and you clearly seem to want it too-'

He put a hand on her lips. 'I know. But not now, it's wrong-'

She brushed his hand off. 'Fuck wrong. Just, now, one fucking moment for _me,_ '

She kissed him instead, and while he was still responding, hand tracing her thigh, Aquila tasted something salty on her tongue. Was she still soaked from the rain, why did her cheeks feel wet?

She was fucking crying. Tears were racing down her cheeks, nonsense and curses hissing from her mouth. She twisted her fingers in his messy hair, trying to feel something, why did everything seem so blurry?

He wiped her eyes. 'Stop crying, you look ugly.'

'Fuck off,' she muttered, leaning against him. He made her sit on the bed and she rasped, 'Do you have anything to drink?'

'Firewhiskey?'

'A whole damn bottle,'

James came back a few moments later, and handed her the bottle, while he poured himself a glass. He sat down beside her as she downed the bitter and burning liquid, feeling the adrenalin coursing. She felt insane. Aquila ran a hand through her hair and inhaled the smell of alcohol.

'I've left him there.'

'Your brother? Aquila, you can't change everyone. You know how your family is-'

'Exactly. He's the only boy, the heir to the Black fortune as well, and now its not just one disgraced daughter, but two! And there's the fact that you're pureblood. If they think I've ran away to marry you or something;'

'Sounds great,' James cut into her rambling. She snorted. Aquila leaned against the bedpost and sighed softly. She was not a crier (She was a Black, after all) but today, she had never felt so guilty in her life. That had been her home, her family, her blood and this was right but at such a cost?

'He _begged_ me not to go.' she mumbled, welcoming the scorch of the whisky. James was at a loss for words. Of dysfunctional, dark families, he knew nothing. Of stolen glances, lonely childhoods, lost legacies, loyalty of _blood_ , he would not understand. He had grown up without any expectations thrust upon him, he had grown up adored for every little thing he'd ever done, without the constant reminder of the blood flowing through in his veins.

('How can you do this, Aquila, running away to your Gryffindor pals? Do you want to be burned away too? Stay for me at the very least, if not for our parents,')

But Regulus was in the past. This was her new life, a life she'd chosen, and stolen, lost memories of a grey eyed brother and cousins she's once thought of as sisters, were gone. It was Black or disownment. After all, Blacks weren't one for goodbyes.


End file.
